


Summer Secrets

by MercuryShep



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alcohol, Established James Potter/Lily Evans Potter, Established Relationship, Established Sirius Black/Remus Lupin, F/M, Firewhiskey (Harry Potter), Gay Sirius Black, M/M, Marauders, Marauders Friendship (Harry Potter)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-10-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:33:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27039523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MercuryShep/pseuds/MercuryShep
Summary: Drunken conversation leads James to make a rather embarrassing confession about his recent sexual endeavors.
Relationships: James Potter/Lily Evans Potter, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 4
Kudos: 43





	Summer Secrets

**Author's Note:**

> My girlfriend and I made a joke about writing a fic like this one night and I decided to make it a reality for her lmao
> 
> Babe, if you're reading this, you're welcome

It was another warm evening in Remus Lupin’s flat, himself and the other three young men in the room sprawled out across his overly-plush couches and clinging to their bottles of liquor for dear life. James was stripped to his boxers, of course, as he was known for his distaste for being clothed when the weather was not suited for it. Peter sat beside him on the royal blue velvet loveseat, his polo unbuttoned just slightly. Remus lounged on the old beige sofa, his sleeves rolled up, and beside him Sirius had unbuttoned his shirt all the way down but somehow still refused to take off his heavy leather jacket. They giggled and gossiped like chattering songbirds between swigs, minds swaying to distract from the incessant heat.

“So, James,” Sirius began, pointing a finger in his bronze-skinned companion’s direction, “how’s the shagging been, eh? Orgasms a-plenty?”

Remus laughed — a hearty, thick, genuine laugh that only a drunk person could manage — and leaned up from his spread-legged sprawl on the couch to study James’s reaction. James, as expected, responded with red cheeks and a shy grin, running his fingers through his curly mess of hair.

“I’d say so,” James responded, unusually vague and short-winded for such an open topic of discussion. Normally he’d prattle on for hours about Lily and her perfect body and her perfect face and her perfect voice given the chance, but tonight the lips of a bottle of firewhiskey occupied James’s mouth between each breath.

“Ah, come on, Prongs! You’ll have to do better than that!” Remus countered playfully, stretching out one of his lanky legs to tap James’s hand with his foot. James, who was lounging on his side and his elbow with his head resting on the couch arm, only blushed more deeply and pulled his hand away. In his movement James accidentally kicked Peter a bit before decidedly propping his feet onto the blonde boy’s lap, but it only roused Peter from his heavy-lidded daze for a moment before he nodded off again.

“What, can’t a man have some privacy?” James protested, looking unusually earnest in his complaint. 

“No,” Sirius and Remus responded simultaneously, unable to detect any of James’s discomfort through their respective whiskey-colored hazes. Sirius wrapped a triumphant arm around Remus, heavy and unbalanced, but Remus shrugged him off because it was much too hot to be carrying Sirius’s jacket-clad torso on his shoulders. 

“Listen, Prongs, you told us the first time she kissed you. You told us the first time you touched her tits. Hell, you even told me the first time you wanked off while thinking of her!” There was a pause in Sirius’s monologue as James threw a shoe at him.

“You told me you’d never repeat that again!” 

Sirius threw his arms and legs up in the air, curling into a ball to protect his soft parts from the projectile and promptly spilling a good splash of his beverage onto the sofa. Remus groaned and smacked the parts of his face that weren’t quite covered by his raised hands, muttering something about stains and steam cleaning.

“Alright, alright! You got me, sorry. But hey, listen mate, all I’m saying is—” A hiccup interrupted him, probably from too much sudden movement. “All I’m saying is that, well, you tell us _everything_ about you and her. The three of us probably know more about the faces she makes when she comes more than _she_ does, thanks to you. So if there’s something you’re not telling us, it’s probably something we _really_ want to know.”

James sighed heavily and rolled onto his back, staring up at the ceiling as he contemplated like a forlorn widow in an old melodrama. He took a long swig from his bottle, his spare arm dangling off the side of the couch, which Remus again began idly kicking at, though this time less to get his attention and more as just a mindless, drunken impulse to occupy himself.

“I’ll tell you guys,” he said decidedly, sitting up on his elbows with a grunt of effort and an accidental nudge into the soft part of Peter’s thigh that caused him to jolt awake with a pained yipe. He consoled Peter with a profuse apology for a few moments before the younger lad curled his feet up onto the cushions and huddled as close to the opposite couch arm as possible, snuggling it affectionately as he began to drift again. “But,” James began again, “you can’t tell _anyone_. And you can’t laugh, either!”

Sirius scoffed, chuckling around the lip of his bottle. “C’mon, James, you’re acting like she stuck a finger up your arse or something. Just tell us!”

The silence was deafening. James’s eyes widened and, if it was possible, his cheeks got even redder than before, his blush now a full blossom across his face. Remus, who had been fiddling with his shirt buttons, looked up when the lack of response became obvious. Sirius leaned in over his knees with high brows and a slack jaw.

“James,” he said, his voice low and demanding, “ _Did_ Lily put a finger up your arse?”

The redness of Remus’s face became obvious too against the pale hand he had raised to his mouth, though from embarrassment or from the flush of drunkenness it was impossible to tell. He quickly replaced his hand with his drink and took a few strong gulps to keep from making a comment.

The silence was telling again. James frowned and hid behind his bottle, tracing a finger over the shape of the logo. Sirius yipped like an excited puppy and slapped his thigh in disbelief. “Well I’ll be _damned_ , Prongs! And you liked it, didn’t you?"

“He probably liked it a lot more than he’s willing to admit,” Remus murmured, stumbling over his words a little. “But it’s okay, James, if it feels good it feels good, y’know?” His voice cracked with his rising inflection.

“You said you wouldn’t make fun of me!” James whined, tossing his arms down and sloshing his drink on the rug in the process. He turned his head away from them to face the back cushion of the sofa, lower lip protruding and thick brows twisted together in a hearty pout.

“Hey, we never said we wouldn’t make fun of you,” Sirius retorted — with a tip of his drink in James’s direction for emphasis — “We only said we wouldn’t laugh.”

Remus leaned up, a little too fast, a little dizzy, and ruffled James’s already-mussed hair. “We weren’t making fun, Prongs,” his voice was slurring now, “Just curious, is all.” He chuckled, then added, “If it makes you feel better, I can tell you about all the times Sirius has fingered my hole and how good it felt when he did.”

Everyone (excluding Remus) cringed at the word “hole” and Sirius immediately gave his boyfriend a nice pat on the back and a squeeze on the shoulder to get his attention. “Now, now, Moony, as absolutely generous as that is, I think he’s perfectly aware that I touch your bum from time to time. You can spare the details for now, yeah?”

Remus frowned and gave a shy little “oh,” then leaned back into Sirius’s arms with a quiet hum of affection. 

“Oy, Prongs, that doesn’t mean you’re off the hook, though.” Turning his attention back to James now, Sirius tossed the shoe back at him. “Tell me what happened with Lily or I’ll twist your nipples!” 

With an indignant gasp, James set his drink down and slapped his hands protectively over his bare chest, sticking his tongue out at Sirius just like he used to when they were kids. “Shut up, Padfoot!” he demanded, but when Sirius shoved Remus aside in a dramatic lunge toward the blue sofa, he shouted frantically, “She pegged me!” 

Sirius stumbled over his own feet at the exclamation, nearly knocking his head against Potter’s as he hit the ground with a heavy thud. The impact dazed him for a moment, but his need to address what James had said outweighed his physical symptoms. “James Fleamont Potter!” he gasped, the “F” sounding more like a “V”; some words never fit quite right in his mouth while he was intoxicated. Quickly he clambered onto his hands and knees, then sat up on his heels and folded his arms over James’s torso, resting his head upon them prettily with a wistful smile. “Oh, darling, tell me all about it!”

“You’re such a prat,” James groaned, pushing Sirius’s face away. “Quit it, really!” But then Remus was there too on the floor beside Sirius, the two of them staring up at him like begging dogs.

Sirius made a yearning sound, a dreamy sigh with a hint of melancholy. “And here I was,” he began, voice lilting, “thinking all this time that you wouldn’t dare the thought of taking it up the back end.” He picked up the drink James had set down and took a swig of it. “After all the times you turned my offers down!”

James sat up on his elbows to look down at him, scrunching his nose and frowning. “It’s different!” he demanded, “It’s different when it’s with her.”

“Prongs is right,” said Remus, his restless hands now reaching to take off James’s thick-rimmed glasses and place them upon his own nose. “Completely different when it’s her. I’d let Lily Evans peg me any day.” He closed his eyes, perhaps lost in a rather heated daydream, when James snatched the glasses back from him. He jerked his eyes open suddenly and straightened, slowly realizing what had happened, then sank into a sulking pout with his chin in his palm.

“Hey!” Sirius prodded Remus on the shoulder. “You’re _my_ boyfriend, not Lily’s. If you’re going to imagine anyone putting things in places, it should be my things.” He shook his head, then lifted his fist and shook it symbolically towards the red-haired witch. “First she stole my best mate and now she’s stealing my love! Curse her and her wicked siren song!”

“More like her wicked siren dong.”

Laughter erupted in the room loud enough to wake Peter from his drunken sleep, and Sirius splashed his drink on Remus as punishment for speaking such an egregious pun. He squealed and whined and Sirius kissed it better and they all took to their bottles again, teasing and arguing and having the time of their lives for one short summer night.

“It felt good, you know,” James murmured, lying on the floor now with his head in Sirius’s lap. 

Peter had replaced Remus and Sirius on the beige sofa, using the balled-up, liquor-soaked shirt Remus had long-since peeled off as a pillow as he slept. Remus claimed the loveseat despite having a perfectly good bed in his room only a few meters away. Sirius now sat straight legged on the floor, leaning against the sofa’s base. One of his hands idly toyed with James’s hair while the other traced up and down his bare arm.

“I know,” he whispered, his voice likely not as quiet as he thought but his friends too thoroughly knackered to awaken at the sound. “But I won’t tell anyone.”

James nodded, a yawn escaping him, as he briefly pressed his face against Sirius’s abdomen for warmth. “You’re a good friend, Padfoot. I can always tell you anything.”

“Anything.”

Both their eyes had fluttered shut by now, weighed down by the lateness of the evening and the emptiness of the bottles scattered around them.

“Lily told me she wants to peg you too.”

But Sirius responded with only a quiet snore, having drifted off to the sound of his companions’ rhythmic breaths. James decided, then, that he would keep that admission to himself, stored for another night like this — another night with flowing drinks and hearty laughs and embarrassment cast to the wayside. The boys would have plenty more nights to share their summer secrets, and James happily awaited them. 

In his last coherent thought before wading off into a blissful, dreamless sleep, he remembered all his best nights with the Marauders. And that feeling he got when he remembered those nights was the best feeling of them all.


End file.
